


A Touch of Sunlight

by InfiniteBreath



Category: Bleach
Genre: Fluff, M/M, OOCness, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteBreath/pseuds/InfiniteBreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected rain shower inspires Kuchiki Byakuya to lose himself in the moment. When he receives a surprise visit from Kurosaki Ichigo, Byakuya chooses to accept the chance to grab hold of a new future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Touch of Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Slightly cliché, not beta read, and slight OOCness. 
> 
> AN: This piece has been posted to FFN under the same pen name. I've revised it slightly since posting it there. This fic started off as a one-shot, but I may add chapters to it.

Kuchiki Byakuya hadn’t intended on staying late in the office, but the arrival of the afternoon hours had brought forth a sudden rain shower – the one thing powerful enough to tear Byakuya’s concentration away from his paperwork. The sweet aroma of damp earth drifting in through the open window had enticed a sudden urge for tea, and the noble was three cups in to a meditation session when he realized that the rain had long subsided and office hours had officially passed.

He was in the process of stilling his quiet reflection when the sound of shuffled footsteps approached his office door. A quick glance at the outside atmosphere framed by the window, though dank and gray, confirmed that it was near late evening hours. Byakuya set down the delicate cup he held in his hands, wondering who might have any sort of business with him at this strange time.

A sharp knock filled the air, and Byakuya smoothed down his clothing. He straightened his posture and speared the door with an indifferent gaze. “Enter,” he commanded.

The door cracked open and a shock of bright orange hair slipped through the doorway and set the room ablaze. Byakuya wondered how he had failed to notice the warmth of Ichigo’s reiatsu – his meditation must have been deep.

The rigid line of the captain’s shoulders blurred before melting into the background. He offered his guest a nod of greeting. “Kurosaki Ichigo, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

Ichigo stepped into the room and cleared his throat. “Heya, Byakuya,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just on my way to drop off something Rukia left over at my place when I noticed that your office light was still on.” He shrugged and gave Byakuya a crooked smile. “I thought I’d pop in and say hi.”

There was something off with Ichigo, but Byakuya could not pinpoint what was amiss. There were no visible wounds or bruises marring the tanned skin, and Zangetsu also appeared to be unscathed. The long sword was strapped to its companion’s back in normal fashion, and Ichigo’s shihakushō was in good form – it even appeared to be pressed.

Byakuya flicked his eyes back up the length of the man’s body and decided he would just have to watch and wait for the irregularity to reveal itself. “I appreciate the gesture,” he finally offered, steepling his hands on the desk. It had taken him countless months to accept Ichigo’s humble offer of friendship, but he had no regrets. “Are you well?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Ichigo waved toward the guest chair. “Do you mind if I sit for a bit? My head’s still a bit loopy from traveling.”

“Apologies, but I am about to retire for the evening,” Byakuya informed. A wave of disappointment rolled down the slopes of Ichigo’s face, drowning the contentment from every plane that it touched. Something twisted at the core of Byakuya’s psyche, and he found himself deliberating why Ichigo had suddenly become upset. He was only sure of one thing: Whatever the cause of his comrade’s distress, Byakuya wanted to neutralize it with his own hands.

“You may accompany me home if you like. If it suits you, you may also stay and wait for Rukia to return from her training. She should be home by midnight. I will sit with you until then.”

The light that filled Ichigo’s eyes at Byakuya’s request took the noble by surprise. The substitute Shinigami attempted to hide his newfound happiness by making light of the offer. “That’d be great, Byakuya, thanks. I didn’t know she was training.”

“Ukitake-taichou has instilled a new regimen in his division in hopes of strengthening the unit as a whole,” Byakuya explained. He fingered the smooth rim of the ebony tea cup and stared down into the tepid liquid.

“The idea is to uplift morale by allowing each member to hone his or her individual strength. The results have been positive, but the process has taken a toll on many.” A heavy exhale escaped from Byakuya, and he attempted to cover the slip by rising from his desk.

“You miss her.”

It was an innocent comment, but Byakuya was forced to gather his strength to voice a reply. “I do,” he finally answered. “Her training has managed to take over the few hours that she and I once had to…socialize.”

“I’m sorry,” Ichigo murmured, taking a step toward the desk.  A lone finger traced the edge of the aged wood, and Byakuya could not help but track its movements. The power housed within Ichigo’s hands amazed him; even when it lay dormant, cushioned by flesh and bone, it was present in the man’s actions.

More than that, only Kurosaki Ichigo could grant him comfort with nothing but a few simple words.

“You are not at fault for the circumstances,” Byakuya pointed out, “but I am grateful for your concern.” He stepped out from behind the desk and moved toward the doorway. “Shall we?”

“You still have tea in your cup.”

Byakuya stilled his steps. “I have attendants who will see that my office is put to rights before the morning.” A blanket of warmth draped itself across the length of his back, and he wondered how Ichigo managed to always radiate such comforting heat.

“You need someone to take care of you, Byakuya.” Ichigo paused. “Everyone deserves to have someone special to go home to.”

“Perhaps,” the noble conceded. “But I cannot afford to indulge in such luxuries. Come, Kurosaki Ichigo, we must away.”

Byakuya stepped out into the hallway and began to walk down the long corridor. The sound of hurried footsteps chased him down, and he tried to ignore the longing burning in his heart. Ichigo’s ability to read through people unsettled Byakuya, mostly because he hated knowing that his weaknesses were as clear as sunlight to the man.

The scent of rain still clung to the evening air, and it soothed the turbulent emotions simmering within Byakuya. He inhaled, holding the breath for a long second, before releasing it back into the atmosphere. “It has been too long since Seireitei has been blessed with rain,” he commented, stepping over a small puddle. “If it is acceptable to you, I would like to walk home.”

Ichigo chuckled and fell in step beside Byakuya. “I never figured you for the type who enjoys splashing around in puddles.”

“Only during full moons.”

“Is that a joke? I must be dreaming!”

“Contrary to popular belief, Ichigo, I do have a personality,” Byakuya quipped. He sidestepped another puddle and accidentally bumped Ichigo’s shoulder. “Apologies,” he offered. He reached out and placed a hand on Ichigo’s elbow in an attempt to steady him.

“You said my name,” Ichigo breathed. He shrugged his right shoulder and offered Byakuya a small smile. “You should say it more – friends use each other’s names you know.” He ignored the surprised look on the older man’s face. “And I know you have a personality. It’s subtle, but always flowing, like the undercurrents that ripple beneath the surface of a still pond.”

Awe spiraled down Byakuya’s spine and settled into the base of his spine. His steps faltered against the moist earth before coming to an abrupt halt. He turned to find a pair of soulful eyes staring at him, full of patience older than Ichigo’s years. Byakuya felt a spark ignite within the darkest parts of his soul, and he realized that he was being offered something precious - a second chance at happiness.

“Ichigo, I -”

“I see you, Byakuya,” Ichigo offered, taking a step into his personal space. “For so long now, I’ve been able to see nothing but you.”

The words stole the air from Byakuya’s lungs. He slid the hand resting on Ichigo’s elbow up the man’s arm and cupped the side of his neck. The material of his glove was the only thing shielding Ichigo from the brand of his touch. The invisible mark, when given, was permanent. He needed to know that Ichigo was ready to receive it.

“Do you realize what you have just admitted?” Byakuya needed to hear Ichigo admit that he knew exactly what he was saying. Only then would he allow himself to believe it. And only then could he lower the steel gate that led to his most private self. His fascination with Kurosaki Ichigo was a force in itself, and Byakuya wasn’t about to succumb to its demand of exploration, of willing submission to an unknown future, without being sure that the trek would be worth the risk.

There was too much at stake. Not only was he responsible for the upkeep of his family reputation, but he was the only guard of his own self. A hasty fling brewed from curiosity would poison him in the worst of ways. Byakuya was tired of only grabbing snatches of happiness. He was ready to immerse himself fully in the contentment of a humble home life.

“Yeah,” Ichigo chuckled, wrapping his fingers around Byakuya’s wrist. “I’m saying that I’m in love with you.” An impish smile bloomed on his lips. “You know, just a little bit.”

A sudden shower of rain fell from the sky before Byakuya could comment on the playful remark. He tightened his hold just a touch before releasing Ichigo, noting the wave of sorrow that rose and crashed within the ochre seas of the man’s eyes. He knew that Ichigo believed his gesture to be one of rejection, and he moved quickly in order to alleviate the miscommunication.

Byakuya slipped off his haori and stepped in close to Ichigo’s side, raising the delicate material over their heads as a makeshift umbrella. “Follow me, please,” he beseeched. “We cannot discuss this matter in the rain.”

Ichigo nodded, and Byakuya wasted no time. He took off toward the direction of his home, trusting that Ichigo would follow. The use of shunpo allowed the pair to arrive at the covered gates of the Kuchiki manor within a matter of minutes, and both men were relatively dry despite the downpour.

The pleasant heat that seemed to flow from Ichigo reached out and wrapped itself around Byakuya, who shivered despite a weak attempt to keep up appearances. Ichigo was staring at him with a searing look that demanded a response to his earlier declaration. Byakuya matched the heat of the gaze with a mere tilt of his head.

“I will ask you again, Kurosaki Ichigo. Do you realize what you have confessed? Do you understand what you ask of me?”

Ichigo licked his lips. He reached out toward Byakuya and pressed his right palm against his friend’s chest. “Yeah, I already told you. I want you, and I…want you to need me back.”

There were too many ways that Byakuya could respond to those simple words. Ichigo had used the word need, and it was more than enough to silence the fear laughing in his heart. Hisana had been gone for several years, and Rukia had thrived under his care. Byakuya had taken great pains to honor the memory of his ancestors, and even know he was helping to forge a new path for the Kuchiki line in the evolving environment of Seireitei.

His had seen to his familial duties. Now it was time to see attend to his own.

Byakuya drew his haori tighter around Ichigo and took a step forward. He wasn’t sure where the footfall would lead him, or if he would arrive alone, but he was willing to take a chance. He bent his head and followed the trail of heated life-force flowing from Ichigo’s mouth. Byakuya stopped his descent just millimeters away from the man’s lips and took in the exhaled breath that greeted him.

“Stay with me,” he offered, pressing his forehead against Ichigo’s temple. It was an open offer, a request for exploration without imposing obligations. Byakuya stared down into the ever moving seas of Ichigo’s eyes and saw the understanding dawn within the man’s mind.

Ichigo slid the hand on Byakuya’s chest upward and cupped his jaw. The fingertips were warm against his skin, and Byakuya could feel the heat seep into his chilled skin. It was like breathing in sunlight.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Ichigo smiled, sliding his hand into black silk. He massaged the roots of hair at the nape of Byakuya’s neck. “Then I’ll be able to take care of you.”


End file.
